


Touch

by Khateeah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Branding, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Kinktober, M/M, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Psychological Torture, Sensory Deprivation, Shibari, Solitary Confinement, Torture, there's no sex in this violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah
Summary: The Shimada Clan elders instruct Hanzo to ensure  Genji never forgets where his loyalties lie. Hanzo makes sure the reminder is permanent. Kinktober fill featuring branding, shibari, sensory deprivation (and medical play if you squint).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless torture porn. Tagged implied incest to be safe (this is Kinktober, after all).

_I own you._

It'd been three days since Genji heard those words. Three days of silent darkness, confined in total isolation from the outside world. Sight and sound and smell were mere memories, teasing echoes of sensation that faded further away with each passing minute. And touch… the pressure of artfully knotted ropes binding his limbs, silken braids crossing and winding around him was all he'd been left to feel.

Now, he felt nothing at all. Neither the ropes around his body, the ground beneath his knees, nor the stagnant, luke-warm air against his skin. He was trapped, left with nothing but his rage feeding the hellish chaos in his head.

_I own you._

Those words grated on his ego like a broken record. They echoed in his head on repeat in his brother’s voice, each biting syllable packed with the intense, blistering fury only a Shimada could harness. Ever since he'd awoken bound, blindfolded and gagged, those words had mocked him, torturing him while he suffered hour after hour in deafening silence.

Genji was beginning to believe it would never end when Hanzo returned for him at last. He was hovering on the edge of a nightmare when the door to his barren prison swung open, jarring him from his stupor. The shrill squeal of the doors hinges screamed in his ears, and a hoarse, startled cry tore from his throat, muffled by the cloth gag in his mouth. Panic seized in his chest, jump-starting his heart into a frantic rhythm that pounded against his sternum. Blood rushed in his ears as his muted senses roared to life, drowning out the sound of footsteps that drew closer, hard heels clicking across the cold stone floor.

“Genji.” A pair of warm hands grabbed his arm, and Genji gasped. Gentle fingers peeled away the tape holding an IV in place, his lifeline that had provided a steady drip of fluids and nourishment and sedatives over the course of his confinement. Next came the IV itself, carefully withdrawn from under his skin. Genji sagged heavily against the man who tended him - the man whom, even blind and depraved as he was, he recognized as his brother.

He felt tears prick his eyes at the contact between them, the soft brush of Hanzo's yukata against his cool, pale skin sending shivers down his spine. Starved for touch, he soaked in the sweet sensation of Hanzo's strong, familiar body against his own. But his joy was short-lived. Hanzo's hands found his shoulders and pushed him upright once more, steadying him where he knelt bound on his knees before releasing him altogether.

“Understand that you have shamed the Clan for the last time.” That voice. Hanzo's voice was the same as it'd been three days before, cruel and cold and full of ire. And for a moment, Genji wasn't sure he'd awoken from his nightmares after all. His whole body felt like fire, from the pounding ache in his head to the sharp tingle in his toes. Each sensation was excruciatingly intense, painfully amplified after his senses had been deprived of stimulation for so long.

“Time after time you've dishonored the Shimada name. Sold your body like a whore on the streets.” There was no love in Hanzo's voice, no sympathy. Only an ice-cold hardness that chilled Genji to the bone. “It ends now.”

The lingering warmth he’d felt radiating from his brother’s body was suddenly gone. A rustle of clothing told him his brother had stood up, and a snap of Hanzo’s fingers followed by another set of footsteps pacing into the room told him they’d been joined by another.

“You've made it clear you do not intend to change your behavior. You are weak. A slave to the desires of the flesh.” There was a clank of metal on metal, the flick of a lighter, and the unmistakable _whoosh_ of a torch being lit. A sharp pang of terror coiled in Genji’s gut, and his eyes darted wildly in vain beneath his blindfold. He knew he was in danger. He could feel the tension spike in the air. It made his skin prickle and hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“So do what you will. _Whom_ you will.” Suddenly Hanzo was there again, kneeling behind him, so close that Genji could feel the warmth of his breath brushing over his ear as he spoke. Soft fingertips traced down the dip of his spine, over the intricate web of silken knots that held him to rest on his forearms bound behind his back. “But know that from this day forward, you will serve me as a living, breathing example of just what happens to those who oppose the will of the Shimada Clan.”

Genji felt his heart stop. Hanzo's free hand found his throat and pushed his chin back, securing Genji’s head against his shoulder. The hand on his arms tightened, securing him firmly in place. The second set of footsteps approached, and Genji began to tremble. He could feel the twisted scowl that spread over his brother’s face. “You may fly, little sparrow, but you are forever marked by the dragon. Never forget who owns you.”

The smell hit him first. Hot and acrid, the scent of scorched iron wafted up his nostrils on a burst of heat. But his mind never had a chance to process it. Barely a second later, the brand was on his skin, searing the flesh of his left breast in a plume of steam and smoke. Genji never heard the raw, guttural scream that ripped from his throat as the circular sigil of two twin dragons melted through layer after layer of tender skin.

Adrenaline flooded Genji’s blood in torrents like a river bursting through a dam. With his nerve endings destroyed, the initial flash of white-hot agony subsided quickly to a throbbing ache that twitched and pulsed in time with the racing rhythm of his heart. His breath came in deep, ragged gasps, bubbling and hissing around the spit-soaked gag lodged between his teeth. Within seconds shock had set in, muffling his hearing and making his head spin as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. He must have slumped over because suddenly there were two strong hands gripping his biceps, holding him in place as they rubbed a brisk, soothing rhythm over his sweat-slicked skin. Genji whimpered a tiny, pathetic noise that rasped, barely audible in his throat. His vocal chords had been all but destroyed by the head-splitting scream he'd unleashed when the brand hit his flesh.

Hanzo’s hands moved to the knot of cloth behind Genji’s head and untied it swiftly, freeing him of the gag in his mouth. Next came the blindfold, lifted up and away, exposing his eyes to the blinding light of the lantern on the floor. Genji squeezed his eyes shut. He was afraid to look at his brother. His captor. The mere thought of meeting Hanzo's gaze terrified him, even as his body sagged back against the man’s chest. Hanzo continued his work in silence, deft fingers moving over Genji’s arms, his back and down to his legs, quickly and methodically undoing the last knots that bound his calves to the rear of his thighs.

Hanzo pressed a firm kiss against the damp, matted green hair at the back of Genji's head, and stood. Dazed and delirious, Genji swayed where he knelt. He struggled to make sense of the half-coherent thoughts spinning through the thick haze of misery and pain filling his head. He'd barely registered Hanzo's tender gesture when the elder man turned to leave.

“I've called for the nurses to tend you. Dinner is in three hours. You'll be expected.”

Genji hadn't expected Hanzo to leave him, abandon him once again, alone and in pain in the dark. And though he was petrified at the thought, Genji didn’t dare try and move to give chase. He wasn't sure his legs would support his weight. “Wait!” he cried instead, his voice hoarse and harsh, hardly more than a whisper.

To Genji’s surprise, Hanzo stopped. The elder paused, exhaling slowly before he spoke. “Your wounds will be tended. You will have assistance in bathing--”

“I need you!”

Genji didn't need to see the expression of mingled anger and disbelief that etched itself on his brother’s face at the sound of his words. He could see it in the way Hanzo's shoulders tensed, feel the aching tension pulled taut like an invisible rubber band strung and stretched to its limit between them.

“You do not.” The finality in Hanzo's voice left nothing to question. He left without another word.

Genji never saw the tears that rolled down his brother’s cheeks.


End file.
